My Twin Trouble Page 7
“I have your number. See you later.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll get the washing for you.”
“You don’t have to wait on me.” Although her offer would save him time.
“I promise not to get into the habit of hanging out your washing.”
Joe laughed briefly while trying to work her out and finally nodded. “Thanks.”
He drove away from the house puzzled and a fraction off balance. Kiera didn’t act like the other women who’d paraded in and out of his bedroom. He couldn’t predict what she’d do next, which enticed him to spend time with her. She didn’t bore him like the other women simply because she kept him guessing.
Kiera made him want to learn her intimately, all of her secrets. Even stranger was the yearning deep inside to cherish her. The possessive angle, he had covered already.
Shaking his head, he pulled up sharply and backed up the drive. He parked his SUV and climbed out to get on his tractor. With a muttered curse about concentration, he headed out again in his tractor. The woman diverted him. The next few months would prove interesting. He wondered if he’d manage to let her go as he’d promised.
* * * * *
Kiera tidied the kitchen and hung out the laundry once the machine cycle finished. She set another load going and decided on a quick shower before going to work. She’d unpack her bag later tonight and add a few personal touches around the place. Strew around some motoring magazines and a couple of DVDs of her favorite car show. Dump her toiletries in the bathroom and purchase some of her favorite foods. She’d put out a bowl of mints plus some fruit. Maybe a couple of candles. Small touches to help convince her brothers she and Joe were a couple.
Early morning passed rapidly and, pleased with her progress, she set off to her workshop at eight. She parked in front and groaned, rubbing her butt once she climbed out of her truck. Every time she sat, her bottom reminded her of Joe’s spanking fetish.
Her arse wasn’t bruised—she’d checked in the bathroom mirror—but it was definitely tender. Every twinge made her recall their wild lovemaking and pushed heat and arousal through her. Her breasts ached in time with her butt, and her panties were wetter than she was comfortable with.
Drat the man. Her initial attraction had morphed into a monster. She wasn’t sure how she’d manage the next few months without losing her heart to him. His bossy charm threatened to overwhelm her. Coupled with his magical touch and sexy lips, she knew she was in big trouble.
While she liked sex, she didn’t want to marry a human or mate with another feline. She couldn’t envision either type of male permitting her to continue with her interest in cars, and especially a take-charge male like Joe. No, much better to remain single and run her life the way she saw fit.
Kiera unlocked the side door of her workshop and immediately opened the huge roller doors to disperse the gloominess inside. She pulled on a pair of overalls and commenced work on the postmaster’s car.
“You’d better be spitting out some details, girl.” Ambar’s voice yanked her from sensual dreams of Joe.
Kiera wheeled herself from under the car and stared up at her friend. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’ve come for the deets you didn’t spill last night.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Kiera!”
“Joe and I talked yesterday and decided to help each other out. I moved in with him, and in exchange, I fix his vehicles and farm machinery for free.”
Ambar’s dark brows shot upward. “That’s what you told us last night. There’s more to ’fess up.”
“We live in the same house and have separate rooms.” Kiera wanted to grin at the frustration on her friend’s face.
“I don’t believe you.” After a glance over her shoulder, she bent over and sniffed. At the same time she opened her mouth, dragging Kiera’s scent over her receptors. A crafty smile spread across her face and she rocked back on her heels. “You didn’t spend the entire night in separate rooms. Tell me. What’s he like in the sack?”
“My lips are sealed.”
Frustration simmered on Ambar’s face. “Pooh, you’re no fun. What about the girlfriend code?”
“Don’t you need to get back to the shop?”
“Rohan and Kiran are minding shop. They were groping each other behind the counter, and I figured I’d give them privacy.” Despite her rolling eyes, Kiera didn’t have any trouble seeing Ambar’s love for her brother and his mate.
“Since you’re here, you can take dictation. I need groceries. I’ll pick them up before you close. There’s a notepad in my office.”
Kiera wheeled her trolley back under the postmaster’s car, grinning at her friend’s grumbles. A pity Ambar had mates because she would’ve been perfect to set on one of her brothers.
“What can you tell me about Sly?” she asked when Ambar returned.
“He’s identical to Joe in looks and manner. Most people have trouble telling them apart. They’re close.” Ambar hesitated. “Not in a sick way, but they do almost everything together. It’s rare to see one without the other. At least it used to be.”
Kiera discerned the mental shrug in her friend. “Everyone says he’s innocent.”
“Sly is innocent,” Ambar said instantly. “Oh, it’s true he had sex with that woman and tied her up, but she was a willing participant. Joe and Sly both swear it’s the truth, and I believe them. She wanted to save her own skin and didn’t care about the fallout for Sly and Joe. Why the questions? Do you have concerns?”
Kiera finished her mental checklist and wheeled out from under the car. “No. I’ve noticed Joe’s loss of weight and mood changes since I moved here. I’d like to help, but I don’t want to blunder in where I’m not wanted.”
“I would trust Joe with my life. Sly too.”
Kiera nodded, glad of Ambar’s confirmation of her gut instincts. Of course, if her brothers learned of the whole sordid mess things might become awkward.
* * * * *
Emily Mitchell wasn’t sure why she was bothering because Maggie wasn’t the same woman she used to call a friend. She parked down the road from where Maggie lived with her husband and waited. A fraction before nine she watched Maggie’s husband drive away in a late-model car. She waited another five minutes before hurrying up the driveway of Maggie’s house. She pressed the doorbell, the strident clamor of the buzzing echoing inside the house.
The door opened instantly. Emily didn’t wait for an exchange of social niceties. She barged past Maggie, entering the luxurious house without greeting.
“Which way is the kitchen?”
Maggie’s lips compressed and she glowered. “I’m on my way out.”
“This won’t take long. I need a cup of tea.” Emily caught the scent of bacon and followed it to the kitchen. She burst inside, surprising a woman doing dishes.
“Joan, could you make us a cup of tea please. We’ll be in the den.” Maggie turned away and Emily followed her.
Maggie dropped onto a black leather two-seater.
Emily strode across the thick, woolen carpet to sit in the one opposite. “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”
“As if you care.”
“We were friends once. I was married to your brother.”
“You never loved him,” Maggie spat.
“Of course I did,” Emily said in exasperation. They’d repeated this conversation several times since Michael’s death and Emily’s subsequent remarriage to Saber Mitchell.
“You never loved him enough to have a child.” A tear trickled down Maggie’s cheek.
“Michael cheated on me. You can’t dispute the fact. Maggie, what is this really about?”
“I lost my baby two months ago.”
Emily’s heart twisted in sympathy, recalling the nagging ache of pain too well. Her hand crept down to cradle her belly. “I’m sorry. The ache of loss never goes away but time does make the pain easier. You have your husband.” Saber had certa
inly saved her from herself.
“He doesn’t love me.”
“Of course he does.”
Another tear rolled down Maggie’s face.
Emily fished a clean hanky from her pocket and handed it over.
“We have a marriage of convenience. He’s gay.” A croak of horror escaped Maggie and she stared at Emily through tear-filmed eyes. “Please don’t tell anyone. I didn’t mean to blurt it out. I promised I wouldn’t tell.”
Emily hesitated, aware of the weapon Maggie had handed her—a smoking gun. Could she use it? She hesitated a fraction longer and hardened her resolve. Maggie had trampled over their friendship and she didn’t owe her a thing.
“You need to tell the truth about Sly. He didn’t abduct you. You went willingly. It’s time for you to stop playing with Sly’s life. He shouldn’t spend the next ten years in prison because of your lies.”
“I can’t.” Panic twisted Maggie’s face. “I won’t.”
“If you don’t confess I will go to the papers. By the time I’m finished, everyone will hear the truth about your husband.”
“The scandal will ruin him.”
“And you haven’t done enough damage to your husband’s good name already?” Emily mocked. “Not to mention Sly. Being locked up in jail is killing him.” She stood. “Don’t worry about tea for me. I’ll give you one week to have Sly released or I’ll spread the intimate facts about your husband and marriage.”
Emily stomped from Maggie’s house. Her skin crawled and she wanted a shower. The dirt Maggie rolled in now stuck to her and she loathed the squirmy, itchy sensation called guilt. Heck, she wasn’t even sure she’d manage to carry out her threat to expose Maggie’s husband.
Time would tell.
Sly’s incarceration had broken their family and Emily badly wanted to fix them again.
Her next stop was the library where she did some research on Maggie’s husband. The latest newspaper stories told of his bid to stand in the mayoral race. Other stories mentioned him following in his uncle’s footsteps and standing for parliament. Emily didn’t understand why he chose to hide his sexual preferences. New Zealand had at least two gay members of parliament and they’d also had a transsexual MP at one stage. Most people didn’t care. They wanted standup representation in exchange for their votes.
An hour later she suspected the identity of his lover. Maybe that should be her next step before she talked to a reporter. She’d approach the other man and appeal to his good nature. He couldn’t like his new background position. Maybe he’d exert some influence over Maggie and her husband.
Emily’s last stop was the warehouse to pick up supplies and the new bakeware she wanted for the café. She hadn’t informed Saber of her intentions and decided she’d keep quiet at present to save an argument.
Time would tell if Maggie believed her threat enough to do the right thing.
Chapter Five
Saber dropped Joe off at home after a long day. Exhausted, Joe trudged toward the rear entrance. The scent of cooking meat wafted to him when he opened the door. Soft, off-tune singing came from the kitchen and, without warning, his fatigue fell away. He removed his footwear and entered the kitchen to find Kiera unpacking a box of groceries.
“Hey,” he said in woeful understatement. Her presence worked like a balm, chasing away his loneliness and the ghosts stalking the house.
Kiera straightened to smile at him. “Dinner is almost ready. I made a casserole because I wasn’t sure what time you’d arrive home.”
Warmth suffused him. Her black hair tumbled loose around her shoulders, hanging in unruly curls. She wore denim shorts and a plain white sleeveless top. No bra. His feel-good mood took on a distinctly sexual heat. He wanted to lick along the V neckline of her top and dip his fingers beneath to explore her unfettered breasts. She hovered, clearly uncertain of him, yet she wasn’t running despite the rumors spreading around Middlemarch. “I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you dirty. Do I have time for a shower?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll be back in five.”
Back in the kitchen after his shower, he grabbed a beer. “Want one?”
Kiera glanced up from arranging red and green apples in a bowl. “Please.” She turned away to dish up their meal, and he took the time to appreciate the way her denim shorts pulled over her arse.
“Did you think of me today?”
“Every time I sat down,” she said ruefully.
Joe felt his lips quirk up into a small smile. “Now you understand what will happen if you misbehave.” He realized he was smiling more since coming into contact with her.
She snorted rudely and handed him the two plates of food. “Sit. I’ll get the cutlery.”
Joe hadn’t savored a meal as much for months. Kiera helped mute his isolation, especially after a fruitless day praying for mental contact from Sly. “I thought we’d have an early night.”
“And if I’m not tired?”
“Who mentioned sleeping?” Joe set his cutlery down. “Thanks for cooking for me.”
“I like cooking.” Kiera waved aside his appreciation. “People are starting to talk about us.”
Joe shrugged. “Let them.” Easy to imagine their gossip, especially from the uncharitable ones unacquainted with him or his brother. “Do the rumors and gossip bother you?”
“No, people have talked about me ever since I arrived in Middlemarch. They already think I’m weird.”
“Babe, newsflash. Weird isn’t in the picture. I bet you’ve received a host of single men bringing in their vehicles for repair.”
“Yeah. So?”
“They’re checking you out. Didn’t any of them ask you out for a date?”
“A few. I said thanks but no thanks.”
Curiosity rose in Joe. “Didn’t any of them tempt you?”
She hesitated. “No, my occupation intrigues most men, but after a while they try to change me. They want me to appear more feminine. It’s easier to ignore men and concentrate on doing the stuff I enjoy.”
“Until you need a man to fool your brothers.”
She flashed a quick, gamine grin. “Yep.”
“Your brothers don’t approve of your business either?”
“No doubt they’ll mention me going back to England with them a time or two.”
“You’re a damn fine mechanic,” Joe said, meaning every word. “My tractor hasn’t run as well for ages.”
“Thanks.” Kiera stood to clear the table.
“You cooked. Let me do the dishes.”
“We can do them together. There aren’t many.”
Together. Joe liked the sound of that. “Saber and Emily invited us to dinner. I mentioned your brothers’ visit. Saber said to bring them too.”
“Safety in numbers. Great idea.”
A chuckle burst from him. “They can’t be that scary.”
“You haven’t met my brothers.”
Joe’s brothers—heck, his sisters-in-law—would be more than a match for Kiera’s brothers. They cleaned up together, chatting about their days and the one to come. Finally the kitchen counters sparkled, the dirty dishes done.
Joe took her hand. “Let’s go to bed.”
“It’s still daylight out.”
“Your point?” He wanted to grin again, the lightheartedness inhabiting his brain a welcome change to the darkness of the previous months.
“Never mind.” She followed him obediently down the passage and into his bedroom. She’d tidied up in here too, the neat piles of laundry sitting on top of his dresser showing she’d done more than hang out his one load of washing.
“You don’t have to do my washing for me.”
“I had time. I won’t always.”
Joe heeded the unspoken warning. She didn’t intend to wait on him hand and foot. Fair enough. He was used to doing household chores because he and Sly liked to live in an orderly home. “Strip for me,” he said. “Then climb onto the bed and part your legs.”
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“Why?”
“I want to thank you for dinner and the other things you’ve done around here today.”
Kiera’s tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “No spanking?”
“You haven’t misbehaved. Yet. Undress for me.” Joe stood back and folded his arms across his chest. His gaze roved her body and anticipation soared. The longer he spent with her, the more she intrigued him. She enjoyed a masculine occupation and excelled at her job yet maintained her innate sexiness.
She lifted her shirt over her head, baring her breasts to him. The rounded globes were a luscious handful, the pert raspberry-colored nipples, delectable against his tongue. He couldn’t wait to taste her again. When she hesitated, peeking at him from beneath lowered lashes, he nodded encouragement. “Go ahead.”
Kiera unfastened the denim shorts and wiggled her hips to start their journey down her legs. Her cotton briefs followed and she stepped out of them, crawling onto the bed as he’d instructed. She settled in the middle of the mattress and parted her legs.
“Good girl.” Joe rifled through one of his drawers and found a silky black scarf. He ran the delicate fabric across his palm, tempted to tie her. Not tonight. Instead he approached her. “I’m going to cover your eyes.”
“Why?”
“To keep you off balance.”
“You manage that without even trying.” She bit her lip as if she regretted her outburst.
He maintained his impassive face with difficulty. “Good to know. I won’t hurt you. You have my promise.”
Her eyelids fluttered closed and she inhaled, her chest rising. “I trust you.”
A sense of peace and pleasure seeped through Joe. He appreciated her faith in him. He lifted her head and tied the scarf, blindfolding her quickly and standing back to admire the result. “Tell me how you feel.”
“Vulnerable. Turned-on.”
But she hadn’t mentioned calling a halt. That was the main thing. He circled the bed to stand at the end. The gleam of desire already coated her folds and her clit stood out, a hard knot against the rest of her sex. Joe had intended to remain fully clothed, but the pressure of his cock against his fly changed his mind. He stripped rapidly, leaving his clothes where they fell. He stroked his heavy shaft while he studied her long legs, her breasts, her pussy. “Where should I touch you first?”